


Children Of Chaos

by god_queen



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Backstory, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Character Study, Childhood Trauma, Complex relationships, Emotional Baggage, Explicit Language, Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi, Other, Pre-Canon, Pre-CoV, Recreational Drug Use, Sibling Bonding, Siblings, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Twins, dystopian plannets, relationship may change in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25553230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/god_queen/pseuds/god_queen
Summary: A different take on the rise of the twin gods, a story that tells their tale from conception to ruination, a story that's different.Both a retelling and completely different story than the events of Bl3, will be split into 8 or 9 acts."You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star."-Friedrich Nietzsche
Relationships: Troy Calypso & Tyreen Calypso
Kudos: 8





	Children Of Chaos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DramaticDino](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticDino/gifts), [Mauser_Frau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mauser_Frau/gifts), [alchemist17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alchemist17/gifts).



> Troy and Tyreen take to the streets of Tartarus, trying to survive on their own.

The rain had been going for days. It fell thick in sheets, splashing down buildings to the street corners. As far as the eye could see, which was not far, the streets looked like rivers of shining light where neon signs beamed down.

From above came a crack like thunder. But not thunder. The clouds lit red, a faint glow barely noticeable underneath, then they quieted. A fine ear could hear the clouds rattling faintly.

One soaked girl had a fine ear. Her eyes turned briefly to the sky, only to blink thick drops of water from her eyelashes. Blue, light blue, furrowed in concern before turning back down to the streets. Carefully, her eyes scanned up and down the intersection.

She was sticking out of an alley, one that resembled more of a cave than a street. Water splashed down into ruts from numerous rusted machines above. Shadows hid what the streetlights wouldn’t touch, mostly dumpsters and soaked refuse.

The other directions were barely larger. The street stretched off at an angle, one side shuttered storefronts and the other concrete walls under a looming tram station. The walls had once been black and red, now they screamed in murals more vibrant than the lights.

The girl looked down towards the station entrance. Maybe a block away, but barely visible in the downpour, save a few moving lights. The other way, partially hidden under the pillars of the train above, had the faint glow of a fire. She looked from side to side, eyes desperately seeking out a new trail.

“..” A faint noise drifted over the roaring rain.

“Ty…” It repeated.

Tyreen instantly slid back from the corner, out of the view of the light. She stepped around a thick curtain of water, then over where a small figure was leaning against the wall. In the shadows he looked frail, much smaller than she knew he was. One arm was slung against the brutalist concrete wall to his side, the other hung loose around his stomach, which itself heaved in exertion.

“Tyreen…”

“I’m here, Troy.” She took his hand from the wall, giving one tender squeeze before helping it over her shoulder. Now the height difference was more apparent, when he pulled himself to his feet he stretched almost a full foot over her.

The water around them was cold. Not cold enough for Tyreen to consider it freezing, the rain held a little of the unnatural warmth that suggested it wasn’t all from storm clouds. But it had sapped the heat from her body regardless. She had no recognition of her limbs going numb until they clasped awkwardly with her brother’s. His skin was as clammy as hers, feeling almost of rubber against her hands.

“I need to sit down,” Troy said between lungfuls of air. She was guiding him gently towards a lighter part of the alley, out of the pounding rain but still not out of the shower. His face caught the light on the way over, eyes dark, partially obscured by a black mark across his cheek and the blood under his lip.

“We’ll find you a seat soon, big guy,” Tyreen replied. He hissed in response, clasping her arm as she slowly guided him to a rest against the wall.

“Not many open seats in this town.” He chuckled halfheartedly, absently wiping away a strand of dark hair slicked to Tyreen’s face. “How’s it look?”

Tyreen was silent for a moment. Rain puddled beneath her lowered vision, gently shattering the reflection of a blue light. A sigh brought down a light fog to cloud it further.

“Not good. I think I saw curfew bots at the station, and it looked like a bin fire the other way.”

“We shouldn’t trust anyone out here after curfew,” Troy said. They could both hear their old man in the words, Tyreen almost saw a flicker of him cross Troy’s face. But it ended with a subtle wince favoring the swollen side of his face.

“I could take care of it,” Tyreen whispered.

Troy looked to her, caught her eyes, then looked down to her clenched fist between them. A faint blue glow emanated from beneath the sleeve, blending against the colorful backdrop.

“You know we can’t.” He took her hand in both of his, all three trembling quietly in the dark. “Things would be a lot worse…”

She dropped her hand, loosing it from his. The urge rose to protest, but it fell just as quick. A few men around a fire, a few security bots, either of those were an issue all of their own. But it would be a completely new issue if a manhunt was called on them.

“I’m going to find a safe place. Just wait here.”

He reached for her. His hand grasped at cold air, then fell weakly at his side. She had already vanished, out of sight before she was feet away.

Without her next to him, the rain felt heavier than it had before. Fat drops pounded against bits of metal around him. Faded crimson machines clung to the sides of the walls. The way he was leaning he could see up for what felt like a mile. Probably closer to thirty stories, he guessed. Maybe forty, but he knew nothing of space and distance so he was clutching at straws.

What Troy really knew was that the rain was pounding louder, echoing around him. Each noise beyond that was a threat from the darkness. The distant rattle down the alley could have been a ratchling or a bandit. The rumble around the corner might be a bus or a curfew robot ready to deal out their own particular justice. Even the sky, from where he was sitting, looked claustrophobic and uninviting. The wide open world was gone.

There was an alley, trapped beneath a struggling behemoth. There was water pouring inside so thick it was nearly a river. There was a little, almost-dry patch in the darkest corner. Locked inside was a boy.

Troy swallowed, but the air caught on the way in. The second attempt at swallowing was slightly more successful. His chest puffed rapidly after that, panic flowing air through his lungs. The boy breathing pressed a hand to his face, numb, like rubber. He slid lower, hand now crossed over his other, clutching steaming breath.

It wouldn’t be so scary if the world wasn’t swimming in and out, he knew. It was just hard to tell what was land and water with both spinning around.

How long had Tyreen been away? A few seconds sounded like the water had consumed her noise in passing. Now his ears were a constant deluge, so surely minutes had passed.

A clatter. Down the alley, the way they came.

Breath stopped. Ears perked.

Nothing but pitch black. No life. Not even noise lived here. No cowering ball in the shadows. No one shivering silently.

Stillness was not possible. Water splattered like buckets in spots. Curtains of rain from the machines above formed odd square patterns in the air on their way down. Metal creaked and shuddered as the wind forced around it.

And then it was just rain falling again. His eyes had unfocused, and his world was back to a barrage of rain and shadows.

There was nothing in the alley, Troy had caught every silhouette in the vicinity. He could try to relax a little, and he did, settling out of the defensive stance he had taken, with difficulty. He felt so cold and stiff.

Something tickled his ear.

He turned back to the road, eyes darting. If anything, it was harder to see than before. Where pillars in the distance had been barely visible, now there were just two roads.

“Troy!” The rain whispered.

“Ty?” Why was it so hard to speak?

“Ty?” His words were at least clearer, this time. He had righted himself with an elbow and the wall, face in the rain.

She emerged too quick to see. First a shadowed head, then a glancing touch against his side.

“Troy?” Her face was way too close to his face. The first heat he had felt in a while.

“Oh, baby, are you okay?” Tyreen cooed gently. Her eyes had just adapted to the new lighting. From the outside in, it was pitch black. From the inside, it was still pitch black. But there was a slightly lighter shade of black that she could just about see when it was far enough away from the walls.

But it was his skin that was somehow even colder to the touch as her fingers found the edge of his face. Especially when she pinched the squishy skin of his cheeks between her thumb and index, like so.

“Does someone want me to kiss it and make it better? Mwa, mwa-” Tyreen was quickly cut off.

Troy had smacked her in the ribs, hard. Cold as he might have been, that boy packed a mean right hook.

“Dick. I don’t need your help, get off of me!”

Tyreen released him when both of their arms had matched in a pathetic battle. When the slapping was done, swallowed to the noise of rain, Tyreen’s hand came to a rest over his. She tightened her grip to his wrist, giving it a quick squeeze. There was a hint of playful giggling.

“This way,” she said. Their play forgotten, Tyreen gave her brother’s arm a yank to pull him from the shadows, only for a clang in the darkness to startle her to a stop.

Instead, Tyreen found herself pulled close. Her brother was soaked by the rain and city, covering a familiar and pleasant smell that quelled the oncoming panic. His chest slowed under her ear, flinching only just when another loud rattling came from nearby.

Troy squeezed Tyreen tight to him. Together, they were just another bit of garbage in the alley, another shadow in the rain.

But the noises continued. Rattling of glass over concrete. Bins falling and emptying. Bags tossed violently away. Each one sounding closer and closer.

There was quiet, too much quiet. The twins’ breath hadn’t just slowed, it had nearly stopped.

The dumpster just feet away shifted. Its silhouette in the shadows shifted, inching closer.

Tyreen was frozen, Troy too. They held each other, squeezed tightly. A sudden mechanical clanking made them shiver in fear, shortly before two blinding bright lights passed right over them as the beam swept upwards.

 **“[CURFEW IN EFFECT.]”** The voice of the security bot boomed through the alley. The noise had come from the alley entrance, right where Tyreen had stood moments before. Right behind Tyreen.

She wanted to swallow. Her mouth was so dry, it tasted like copper. But she couldn’t bring herself to move, only shake uncontrollably at the sound of the hoverjets behind her.

“Fuck off-”

The noise that followed was unlike anything Tyreen had heard. It ended with a whistle, a flying blue light, and the scream of the voice being cut-off violently.

The whooshing of hoverjets inched away. Tyreen started to pull away, while the shadows were still hiding them. They had a chance to escape.

Troy pulled her back. He squeezed tighter, holding her down in the dark.

The security bot’s search lights returned, flashing over them once again. The dark returned, then the whooshing came and left as quick as it had appeared.

They both saw it, briefly, as it hovered under the light of the street around the alley. Something was slung over its shoulder, but they could only make out the arm dangling before it disappeared.

“Let’s not turn out like that guy,” Tyreen whispered. It didn’t seem right to laugh, but he gave a dry chuckle to lighten the mood. She couldn’t hear it in the rain.

Troy’s head rested in the crook of Tyreen’s neck. He could feel her breathing hot air over his ears. The sound continued, still heavy. Each breath grew calmer.

The sound of the rain returned to his ears.

Rain, down the alley. Into the streets. On the signs and awnings.

Rain and nothing else.

“Go,” Tyreen whispered. She caught his sleeve, grip tightening until it was painful in Troy’s skin. In one fluid motion, the tiny girl had pushed them both upright. In the next motion, she was pulling them through sheets of stinging rain.

Troy limped and stumbled along. His legs were too stiff from freezing in a ball in the alley, too weary from running all evening into the night. He felt awkward next to the even pat-pat-pat of Tyreen’s feet hitting the pavement.

Things were beginning to blend. It was a rare moment of clarity in the alley, where he had heard the rain caress the surroundings. The noise of water in his ears could as well have been river rapids now.

The rain looked the same. Splattering everywhere from clouds thick enough to hide all but the brightest hints of fire cracking through the sky above. It all ended up the same, pouring from every edge the city afforded. Long coats of water fell from a barred off parking garage entrance they passed. A brief glance inside told him there was more than enough space to live.

Even thin lines of metal were enough to turn a welcome sight into a guarded fort. They passed the ramp for more faceless buildings and railway pillars. No street was straight this far down, most so narrow that grooves had been scratched in from the sides of passing cars. Troy had no sense of whether they had turned or not, or even if they had stuck to a road.

The last alley was noticeably different. Far too tight for a car, steps covered in rushing water led the way down. Tyreen pulled him along, clinging to the grimy walls. The stairs led down further, connecting to another path that continued out of sight and an alley hardly wider than a truck.

At the intersection was a gate that had been left open. Troy saw it instantly for the red light flickering across it. The walls were black with shadow here, a cool blue if the clouds felt right to give them light. That chain was lit by a fire.

Troy heard the echo in his memory, the louse in the alley raging. The noises. The blast.

His fingers tightened around Tyreen’s hand, numb as they were from the water and toil. Unease had started to twist and expand in his chest. She could still feel the tug he gave.

“It’s okay,” she responded, quiet all the same. Both had slowed, panting from the effort. The trek had been fast, switching between a light jog and a sprint until Troy had lost track of time. Now they snuck, crouched low along the ledge of the stairs, and then the wall when the ground had evened out.

After a quick peek around the corner, before Troy could even think to stop her, Tyreen turned back to Troy. She beckoned him after, shielding her face from the shower covering the entrance as she passed through.

“Come on.”

Inside was significantly warmer than outside, though they were still outside. Two large dumpsters greeted them on either side of the chain gate. Another dumpster, overflowing with trash piling beneath it, was further in. Deeper still was a single metal drum, the contents burning with a waning fire that smelt acrid but felt divine.

“Oh, friggin’ score,” Tyreen said through trembling teeth. She released Troy the moment he had entered, taking to holding her shaking fingers over the fire.

The only entrances that Troy could see were a rusted metal door, itself half-submerged in a growing pile of garbage bags, and the way they had come in. They could see just down into the alley across from them. But the dumpsters did a good job blocking the light from view of the alley, shielding them from much of the rain and cold for a relatively warmer damp and cool.

“I heard the noises when I got to the stairs. They were dragging away the old man who was in here, so they’ve already come and gone.”

Troy nodded, idly, rubbing his arms together meanwhile. Having looked around, he came up beside his sister in front of the fire. Old containers and other burnable trash were smoldering inside, black embers glowing a fierce red.

“How far do you think we made it?” Troy asked. He was so sore, and cold, and numb, and hungry. His eyes had started to glaze over as soon as he had spoken, passive face settling as his eyebrows scrunched down. 

Tyreen was happy to see her brother again. Little things like that seemed far more important after reliving the fear of losing him. Not a new fear, it felt like a deep wound instead. The alley, knowing the patrol bot was inches from finding them, had rekindled it like a fresh knife.

She could forgive a distracted scowl. She could finally take a second to rest.

“That alley with the patrol bot,” Tyreen said.

Troy heard the noise, processed the words, translated them into his head, and eventually blinked his eyes.

“Patrol...” He repeated. “Bot… Yeah, the alley.”

“That was the station where Molly would go for the salon.” A roundabout way of describing a little shopping complex, but the words registered instantly and Troy nodded his understanding. “We’re like, twice that from ho- ... -from Molly’s place.”

“That doesn’t seem that far,” Troy replied. This time Tyreen nodded, affirming his fears.

What had been a night of hard running for them was ultimately just hours from where they had started. One sighting, one call, one car, and they would be done before they could even begin.

“We can’t stay here,” Tyreen said.

“We can rest. Then we’ll leave.”

They fell silently as they absorbed the heat. Troy had crouched down, fire now directly in front of him. His legs, arms, and head all seemed to droop at once. A tired grumble was all he could give.

The angry marks across his skin were only getting angrier. Already, Tyreen could see a spot along his shoulder had flared from purple to green. Her muscles were aching even with the handicap, she could only imagine how he must have felt.

“I wish there was some way I could help.”

He looked up to find her staring down at him. The fire was crackling quieter. A few new loose pieces of a box had been dropped in from a pile next to an old crate and bucket. Tyreen was keeping away from both of those.

Troy stared at her staring at him. Then he turned, looking around, and began to stretch and arch out.

He had only closed his eyes a moment, he swore he did. But some amount of time had passed, he could feel it. And it was time that he couldn’t remember.

After coiling back into himself, he settled his head back on his knees and looked over where she had been standing, and where she was now sitting.

Troy smacked his lips and tried to yawn the exhaustion away. To no avail though, he felt like lead.

“Help?”

“Yeah. I mean, I was just born with magic, right? Or something, it’s just always been there, and it’s great when I need it. Like, really, really, need it.” Troy understood the implications, the cold ice in her voice. His mind recalled a figure, black like ash, crumbling. The vision was like a nightmare, it had been a nightmare several times over.

“But I’ll always be a weapon. I can’t fix your eye, or shoot gold out of my eyes or something…”

There was shuffling. Troy wrapped one arm around her, then the other crossed possessively around her head. He held them together, and she had no choice but to let her hands settle on his back and let herself sink into him.

“Hey, if we need to, you can be the brawn and I’ll take care of the rest,” he said into her hair. He kissed her head. A little awkwardly. It was kissing hair, and he didn’t have a lot of experience with kissing to begin with.

But it must have worked. The discomfort was there, but settled back somewhere behind a more pleasant experience. Their bodies had synced, one inhale, one exhale. The dirty little trash corner, the trash fire, the refuse, that didn’t matter as much when it was just them, together as one again.

“Think you can walk?” Troy asked. He worked it in before the pause could become filled with the questions and words they wanted to say. There was a lot to discuss.

“Think you can keep up?” Tyreen teased. The mess of damp brown curls shifted until she was staring up at him, just a pair of bright blue eyes and a mischievous smile.

They were a little warmer, and just a little dryer, than when they had first crossed the open gate. Troy stood, immediately to wince. Flares of pain danced across a handful of spots on his body. The sensation was much clearer than before, less a dull throb and more a sharp discomfort.

When his eyes slowly reopened to the pain, Troy found Tyreen once more staring at him. She was smiling up at him this time.

“What?” He groaned.

“Someone hit me with a stupid sports ball last month and thought it was funny to laugh about it when it was on my calf-”

“You’ve been holding onto that for four weeks?!” Troy almost shouted, left aghast as he was. It had been an accident.

“It turned green and purple-” Tyreen continued with a near-surprising ferocity.

“I said sorry! I gave you ice!” For a brief moment, Troy attempted to throw his hands up in frustration, only for his shoulder to buckle back in pain. He was met with a satisfied, smug look.

“You laughed about it,” she continued.

“Oh, see if I save your life again,” Troy huffed.

Tyreen made a noise, a little gasp of shock. Hurt temporarily flickered across her face.

“That’s not fair…” She pouted, then sharply elbowed him in the side. He caved, but didn’t fall. “If you’re trying to be a hero, you don’t get to hold it over me.”

“What, I can’t cash in on my heroism and stunning good looks?”

Tyreen rolled her eyes, then immediately threw her hands up in apology. She knew he didn’t like that, she had promised to stop.

“For one, then it isn't heroism, it’s just work. You’d be getting paid, duh. For another, I’m not a giraffe, I don’t do that.” Tyreen stepped away, smug. Troy was still groggy and exhausted, he spent his time thinking, until the pieces clicked and he felt the anger swell.

She slipped into the cold cover of darkness to the feel of his glare at her back. He followed just behind, immediately assaulted by the cold shower. The downpour from earlier had eased, but only slightly. It was still hard to see down the alleys, and the darkness of the late- or early- hour did nothing to help.

Anger aside, Troy slipped his hand into Tyreen’s. She looked to him for only a moment, face stern, gripping the collar of her shirt closer. Then they took off, feet splashing along at a hasty jog.

It was easier for Troy to tell landmarks now that he wasn’t near-delirious. The alley led out to a road, but they turned down the other path and continued. The smaller stretch between buildings was particularly dark, built over at some point in the skyscrapers above. Streetlights dotted the old, winding paths that had come before it, but the corners remained pitch black.

Anxiety prickled at Troy’s skin, sending a shiver down his spine.


End file.
